Recess
by altairattorney
Summary: "To be honest, Edgeworth, I didn't know we had a ballroom here." — In which the Ace Attorney movie teaches Maya how to play the piano, and Phoenix and Miles have to seek the way to salvation in fifteen minutes and three tons of paper. A crack-fic, dearly dedicated to the weirdest scene in our beloved live action adaptation.


**Recess**

"This is desperate, Maya, I know it. But it is my last chance, too."

The sound of Phoenix's strained voice erased that of the gavel, and he silently cursed himself. Too desperate to hope for a victory, too stubborn to let it go.

He refused to listen to his buzzing ears, and fiercely ignored the protests of his legs. Every fiber of his body was pleading for rest, answers, or a plain glass of water. Still, he had to make it — at full blast, in spite of anything. He just had to.

As soon as the judge let them walk away, Phoenix rushed out of the courtroom, with a discouraged Maya in his wake. Under his frown, his mind was taking wild guesses at how to fully exploit the last — too short — recess they would be allowed.

It took him a while to notice the quiet silhouette walking by his side.

"If you are looking for a polite way to tell me we are done for, Wright, you might as well-"

"Not you too, Edgeworth!"

Phoenix was breathing heavily, his fists balled, and the look on his face was less than welcoming. Everyone around him felt a

"I already have Von Karma to make a living hell out of my life, I don't need you to help him! I am trying to _save you! And-_ not now, sir, I am very busy righ- b-bailiff?"

"Sorry, but… where exactly were you headed, Mr. Wright? I saw you taking the wrong turn, and I thought I'd show you the way…"

"Oh." Phoenix coughed, blushing furiously. "Of- of course. Thanks."

Even from the blank of his mind, the defense attorney could tell something was wrong. The rooms he had always stayed in during recess, even as Mia's assistant, were located in a different hallway; even for the trial, mere hours before, they had been sent to the usual space.

This time, the choice was bizarre to say the least. And different. And_ how._

A large, brightly-lit room welcomed the four of them, with a slim chandelier and satin curtains hanging from the walls. The windows were unusually wide; they threw abundant light on the patterns of the wallpaper, and their colour contributed an elegant touch to the atmosphere, otherwise a bit affected by the lack of furniture. While not abundant, the latter looked posh and comfortable — right near the table, an armchair and a sofa were ready for them. On a small round table, a potted flower graced the wooden panels on the walls with its delicate petals.

"I am sorry about the inconvenience, sir. The lobby you were assigned to today is currently inaccessible. Court will be back in session in fifteen minutes."

Phoenix's mind seemed to come alive again, as it immediately filled with more questions than he could count. What the hell was this place? Why had they brought them here, instead of the usual, shallow lobbies the courthouse never seemed to put to good use? Why was there-

"A piano!"

Phoenix had to contain a cry of fear, as Maya's ridiculously loud yell tore through the quietness of the room.

"Gosh, Nick! Look! Right here! A real piano, and it's all ours!"

"Maya," he wheezed, desperate. "What in the world are you-"

"I want to play the piano, Nick. Please! I have never seen one before. I am sure it is fun!"

"I don't think it's a good time to-"

"Niiick! C'mon!"

"You never even _saw_ one! How are you supposed to play it?!"

"It's good for the atmosphere! Don't you know? Where a tune from the piano plays, the air becomes so much more… relaxed, so romantic…"

The already short distance between her and the seat vanished in a second. Phoenix watched her fling herself, in shock, barely able to start talking.

"S-so _what_?"

"Seriously, don't be a square like that. The piano makes everything awesome! Don't you ever watch movies? Come on, even I don't stick to the Steel Samurai alone. You are such a bore, Nick. Hmph."

He watched her pout, powerless, as her fingers already touched the keys. He had much he would have loved to know – the source of that sudden interest in pianos, for example, or the reason why a piano was there in the first place; even better, what the movies had to do with the whole mess he was in.

He knew nobody was there for him. He sighed. There was no stopping Maya when she really wanted something.

Hoping the pressing matters at hand would be enough to distract him from the noise, he walked to the armchair, where his legs gave in to exhaustion and stress. His defendant sat on the sofa, apparently stuck in a limbo of deep embarrassment, and was obstinately following the patterns of the fabric with his eyes.

Almost scared to catch his attention, Phoenix cleared his throat lightly.

"To be honest, Edgeworth," he said tentatively, "I didn't know we had a ballroom here."

"I-I guess you have never spent much time in this area, Wright," Edgeworth stuttered. "You _are_ a rookie after all."

"Well then, have you?"

"I must confess- well, I didn't know either."

Again, they fell prey to a long, awkward silence. Phoenix didn't even know where to start — he felt guilty and hopeful at the same time, with the desperate brand of hope desperation suggests. Yet, it was Edgeworth to speak again first. With a gesture that only suggested mild interest, he pointed at the table. He, too, sounded quite exhausted, too

"It looks like someone tried to… help."

It was only then that, in horror, Phoenix took notice of what was covering the whole table.

Piles of dozens of books lay scattered all over its refined surface, and it didn't end there — they surrounded its legs and their seats, heavy, mirrored in the marble tiles. Unable to do anything else, he froze.

"How- how can we possibly find… information… in that mountain of papers? Who on earth-"

Maya's untied notes, which were already turning into an horrendous cacophony, suddenly stopped flowing.

"S-sorry, Nick."

Her voice sounded frailer than usual. Phoenix prepared for the worst.

"I asked Gumshoe to take a look at the archives again. To… help if he could. And… it looks like he did?"

Several times that day, Phoenix had believed it couldn't be possible to feel more exasperated than that. He was proved wrong for at least the fiftieth time.

"Well, amazing," he roared. "Guess he doesn't have the slightest idea of what _essential information_ means. These must be the complete DL-6 reports, and a couple of actually useful texts, and-"

"And all the books to ever exist in the history of law. I know."

Maya sounded mortified. Phoenix opened his mouth several times, unable to find the words.

"Try to lighten up, Wright," Edgeworth said, before he could add anything else. "At least, rest assured it will do you good."

Although it had doubtlessly been a weak attempt, Phoenix understood he was trying to lighten up the mood, and help him focus on what actually had to be done. Feeling as if his ears were catching fire, he struggled to get down to work, and maybe accomplish something.

It proved to be even harder than he had imagined.

Preventing his hands from trembling with anxiety was a fool's errand. Thus, on Phoenix's side of the table, the rustle of the papers was already loud; with the moaning of the piano, it all ended up in one big disaster.

At his fifth try, Phoenix realised he had been reading the same paragraph for ten minutes. He almost dropped the sheets in desperation; only then he remembered his defendant was sitting right there, and he fought against the furious blush shame was already building on his face.

He struggled to build on himself an appearance of dignity, if doomed people can have one, and handed his defendant the only interesting paper he had been able to find.

"Well, Edgeworth, how does this sound to you?"

"I'd say it's a cheap Mozart attempt," he answered, without raising his head from the sheets. "Badly played, too."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh. I-"

Edgeworth grabbed his forearm, seemingly in deep embarrassment.

"I apologize. I am just… rather worried. My perspectives aren't exactly- oh, well."

Phoenix looked down. He didn't even have the right to feel offended.

"I was talking about this, Edgeworth," he explained, waving the sheet at him. "Nevermind. The whole thing doesn't sound good, in more than one way."

For several reasons, all of which, Phoenix guessed, had to be tragic, Edgeworth seemed to have sworn to avoid his gaze at all costs. He moved his eyes frantically around the room, to lay them on Maya and her newfound hobby.

_Curse the piano,_ Phoenix thought. _Curse it all._

"Well, at least you must admit this is a unique sight."

The slight chuckle on Edgeworth's lips had never looked so out of place.

"What then, Edgeworth," he scowled. "What in my life hasn't been weird?"

"Stop whining, Wright. It could always get worse than that."

"Why, thank you very much. I guess you have a point, deep down. Still-"

"You are something, in any case," Edgeworth said awkwardly. "Trying to work in some kind of castle hall with luxury furniture, a broken piano and an… amateur pianist, on piles of useless books, collected with the sole purpose to hide the one useful report we should have somewhere. Indeed — as much as you may be used to this, you have the ultimate nerve, Wright."

"Very funny, Edgeworth," Phoenix answered sarcastically. "Should I take this as a compliment?"

Curiously enough, the answer never came. He turned away, trying to ignore Edgeworth's growing uneasiness.

"If I am to die, I'm sure to have witnessed something other than grief. Something interesting. It is comforting… somehow."

"You are not going to die," Phoenix replied, dryly. "Shut up and help."

The rustle of the sheets grew some more, filling in the long, blank space between the two of them. Edgeworth's voice was faint, and curiouslty acute, when it sounded again in the vast hall. Phoenix almost missed it, under the cover of the piano.

"How are you so sure?"

For a moment, Phoenix felt strongly tempted to slap him. Yet, Edgeworth's eyes were the closest he had ever seen to a suffering puppy, and he had to change his mind immediately.

"I told you," he grumbled. "I believe in you, no matter how many times I have to tell you. I don't care how bad your hearing is on that, and how insistently you refuse to believe me. Now keep reading, because this discussion isn't going to go any further."

Without a second look, Phoenix went back to studying what looked like a useful piece of evidence, and turned out to be an interminable list of witnesses for past cases. He sighed. His life was hard enough already — but that trial, besides being one he couldn't afford to lose, just felt like the weirdest, most surreal dream of his life, and a dream he would have loved to wake up from.

On the far end of the hall, Maya insisted on torturing their ears with her _inspiration_, as she dared to call it later. However, Phoenix couldn't afford to lose his focus. He kept scouring the documents, as his case grew more and more desperate, and something in the atmosphere felt increasingly weird, completely out of place…

"Edgeworth," he snapped.

"H-huh? Me?"

"Who else?" Phoenix said, eyes wide open in shock. "W-why in the world are you staring at me like that?"

"Staring? W-what? Who?"

"You look like you have just seen a ghost," Phoenix muttered. "Not that it would be- well, unusual to me- but- erm…"

His words got lost in incoherent blabbering, as he noticed Edgeworth was close to tearing the fabric of his sleeve. In the prosecutor's muttering, he heard a couple of words that unmistakably sounded like "it … scripted".

"E-Edgeworth?" Phoenix called, now visibly anxious. "What are you talking about? It is- what?"

"I mean- can't be helped. … Huh. ERM!… What? I… I apologize, Wright. I have no idea what's gotten into me. I am nervous."

Phoenix didn't have the time to elaborate an answer, or to conceal his face. The bailiff emerged from the door, clearly not disturbed by anything.

Against their will, they all had to get on their feet, and follow.

_Please, tell me this isn't real, _Phoenix thought, as they walked — he presumed — to their end. _Someone tell me this is just a comedy._

* * *

><p><em>This draft is two years old and I just felt it had to be completed. Long live the awesome ridiculousness of the AA movie.<em>

_Let's face it, this scene was plain weird and nonsensical. And the idea came all by itself... what if the very same events had happened in the game, with the spirit of the game? And this is the result. I am sorry, but maybe I am not._


End file.
